Alone With You
by PrincessPalmtree
Summary: Bamon Multi-Chapter story on my version of their first week together in the 1994 prison world! (All info may not be accurate, hence "my version") This is my first fic on this site, so please Enjoy & Review! :) I do not own these amazing characters, only the writing. "Bonnie and Damon died holding hands..."
1. Day 1

Bonnie and Damon died holding hands. The moment she realized the spell was broken and she and Damon had lost all hope, something inside of her was actually _terrified._ Not only was she dying _again,_ but now she was also toting Damon Salvatore into impending doom. Selfishly, for a brief moment, she was glad she didn't have to face death alone as a sea of brilliant light overtook them both in one great swoop.

 _ **Day One**_

"So you're telling me we both died, got literally _sucked_ up by the lights of Heaven, but somehow managed to get stuck in Mystic Falls?" Damon ranted as he and Bonnie strode through the dark, clearly _empty_ town of Mystic Falls. "And what was up with that eclipse earlier?"

Bonnie quickly turned on her heel and held out her palm in which Damon's firm chest slammed into. His body heat radiated through his thin T-Shirt giving Bonnie a clear idea of his current agitations. She took a breath with narrowed eyes.

"For the twentieth time, _yes._ We are somehow stuck in a Mystic Falls Other Side realm, and for the _hundredth_ time, I truly have no idea why!" she then gracefully let her hand drop and flipped back around to continue in the direction they've been walking since they let go of each other's hands in the woods. "That eclipse was strange, I'll give you that. But honestly, I don't have any answers to offer you." Bonnie could hear an audible _huff_ from Damon as he picked up his pace, in the blink of an eye he was clutching onto her elbow.

"Where is everyone though? When you were dead you could _see_ everyone, right? Does this mean we're actually like- dead, dead?" he persisted, fear creeping its way into his words. Bonnie sighed, gently removing her arm from his grasp. Having gotten used to death so many times made her a bit more resilient than her newly dead vampire friend.

"Yes I could see everyone. This time is different, though. The Other Side _collapsed_ , Damon," she explained, "We got stuck here because of that! And maybe that's a good thing," Bonnie turned her head to meet his gaze, "If it hadn't collapsed we would probably have crossed over." Damon sucked in his breath and ran his hands through his thick mussed, black hair.

"Do you think there's a way to go home? Or are we here for good?"

Bonnie couldn't bring herself to look in his direction. She didn't want to give him any false hope but she also didn't want to crush his spirit.

"I don't know," she simply replied. Finally, after what seemed hours, he silenced himself but kept close to Bonnie's side as they trekked towards the only thing that felt right- the Salvatore Boarding House.

A few minutes later they prepared to take their first steps up the lawn and to the front door. The house was entirely dark and appeared externally the same as it always had, almost as if time had simply frozen. Damon hesitantly pushed the door open, flipping on the lights. The pair stood there in complete fascination as they recognized nothing had been too terribly altered. The Boarding House was unlocked, appropriately furnished, and completely okay. Though, Bonnie couldn't help but notice a different feel in the air. Damon suddenly flew to the left with vampire speed, flipping on lights as he went.

"Stefan!" he yelled, "Stefan! Elena! Hello?"

Bonnie's stomach dropped as her arms automatically wrapped around herself. She closed her eyes, tears threatening to prick behind her eyelids. She could hear Damon crashing around in Stefan's room, throwing objects and cursing- calling hopelessly to his brother. With a gust of wind she could feel him zoom past her going in the direction of his own bedroom. Bonnie couldn't believe he still had his vampire powers even though they were _technically_ dead. Did this mean she still had her powers as well?

"Elena! Say something! Anyone?" she could hear Damon hollering, once again throwing things and banging into the walls. _Why is he calling to them?_ Bonnie wondered, rigidly moving to the cold fireplace, _He knows it's only us._

After ten minutes or so, Damon appeared across from her by fireplace, eyes gloomy and defeated. Bonnie gingerly reached for his arm and gripped it, wordlessly letting him know that he had her support. He finally let out a sad chuckle as Bonnie released his arm.

"I know that no one was home," he foolishly whispered, "I just couldn't walk into this house without at least _trying_ to see them." Bonnie silently nodded with an understanding expression. Out of anyone in the world, _she_ surely knew what it was like to not be heard, to feel alone. Damon then brought his sad, blue sparkling eyes to meet her chocolate brown ones.

"We're really _dead_ aren't we?"

Bonnie's vision became blurred, tears escaping down her cheeks.

"Yeah, I guess we are."

 _ **Day Two**_

Damon was genuinely appalled when Bonnie suggest she stay in the neighbor's house across the street. _"Seriously, Bonnie? There are six other rooms in this house!"_ he had yelled at her, but Bonnie refused. She told him it was because she needed space to work on her magic, but the real reason she left was because of Damon himself. She couldn't recall another time she had seen him _this_ emotional and she knew, even if he didn't, that he needed alone time and rest. _You do too,_ she reminded herself. So there she was, hurrying across the street and making her way up to the deserted houses' doorstep. Not surprisingly the door was unlocked so she stepped inside to take a look.

"Well, it isn't the Boarding House but it'll do," she mumbled, appraising the living space. The house was small but had two floors. The furniture looked old and outdated, but she had to admit the décor was cute. Velvet drapery, checkered tile in the kitchen, porcelain trinkets. Bonnie wandered over to a small clock on the mantel piece that read _1:00 AM._ What time had they arrived here anyway? She didn't know. Bonnie couldn't believe time even existed here. She was _hungry_ too,but wasn't she supposed to be dead? Why was she desperately craving a cheese burger?

The kitchen unfortunately only made matters worse. The only thing there to consume was water. Pouring herself a cold glass, Bonnie decided to have a seat in the middle of the living room and try out her powers.

She attempted spell after spell to no avail- she even ashamedly, as a last ditch effort, ripped open a pillow to make the feathers float. _Nothing_ worked. Bonnie stared down at her trembling hands.

"My powers are off?" she whispered in disbelief. Damon will just be _thrilled._

By the time Bonnie was done yelling and throwing things around just as her companion previously had, she slumped up the stairs to the nearest bedroom she could locate. It appeared to be a guest room composed of a twin bed, dresser, and night table. Bonnie flopped down belly first across the flower patterned comforter. With a groan, she kicked off her shoes and curled into a ball, burying her face in the sheets. _Being dead really, really sucks._ Suddenly her eyes began to feel heavy and in the next instant she was fast asleep.

There was a knock at her door. _It's just your imagination, go back to sleep,_ she firmly directed herself. A pleasant silence followed in which Bonnie concluded that the sound was in fact, nonexistent. After a brief moment, the knock sounded again. This time even more intense. It was practically _pounding._ In a flash Bonnie leapt to her feet and reached for a heavy looking bookend off her dresser. Without her powers she was basically defenseless against whoever she came across. Even though they were sure they were alone in this world, anything is possible- Bonnie had to defend herself.

"Please be Damon, please be Damon," she chanted underneath her breath as she crept downstairs to answer the door. With a surge of courage, Bonnie flung the door open and was about to swing the bookend when she saw who unexpectedly decided to grace her presence.

Damon stood on her doorstep in nothing except black sweats and a plaid un-buttoned long sleeved shirt that exposed his creamy white chest and perfectly chiseled abs. In one hand he held bottle of bourbon, and in the other a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Bonnie's eyes nearly popped out of her head and she wasn't sure if it was because of the ice cream or his abs.

"Your house has food?!" she exclaimed, lunging for the container. In one quick swoop, Bonnie held the ice cream close to her breast while taking a big spoonful into her mouth. She slowly exhaled in contented bliss. Damon sent her an amused smirk as he threw back a swig of his bourbon.

"Why, yes, Bonnie. As a matter of fact, my fridge came completely stocked as well as the pantry. The ghost maids even left artfully crafted towel swans on all of the beds. They _even_ managed to slip those decadent little chocolates under my pillows too!" Damon was gesturing wildly with the bottle, his eyes growing bigger by the second. Bonnie scowled at him but also felt the edge of her mouth quirk into a smile. Damon was either in a _much_ better mood now or he was drunk. She guessed the latter. He then brushed past her and entered her makeshift home, assessing the surroundings with distaste.

"We're not on vacation, Bonnie. We're d _ead."_ Damon strolled around the living room running his fingers over the wallpaper. "I went to the grocery store," he continued, "You know, the place that has food?"

Bonnie shook her head. _So why do dead people need to eat, then?_ She jammed another big bite of ice cream in her mouth. Honestly, she didn't really _care_ where it came from, she would eat anything at this point.

"I hope you weren't drinking bourbon with this. That would be disgusting," she mumbled through mouthfuls of deliciousness. Damon shrugged with indifference as he plopped down onto the couch, stretching out the entire length of his body.

"I can't believe you ditched me for this dusty old people home," he frowned, "Do you even know who this house belonged to? _Gross_."

Bonnie disbelievingly sat her ice cream down to stare at the idiot before her.

"It's not _gross,_ don't be an insolent little child. How should I know anyway, why don't _you_ for God's sake? They were your neighbors after all," she pointed the spoon at him accusingly.

"Oh _please,_ it's not like Stefan or I got invited to neighborhood barbeques or open houses. Doesn't matter though," he mused, arms cradling his head, "It all ends in bloodshed." Bonnie popped the spoon into the container and placed herself in the lounge chair next to him, fist propped beneath her chin. She intently studied his face with a long pause.

"What are you going to do about blood here anyway? There aren't blood bags at your house I'm assuming." Damon pursed his lips, slowly shaking his head.

"No, there's not. For some reason though, my blood lust doesn't feel as _urgent_ here. It still exists- but it's not as bad as usual…" A mischievous look spread across his face before Bonnie had a chance to discern the reason why. "Are you offering your assistance?" he gloated, rolling up his sleeves with his eyebrows wiggling. Bonnie cursed under her breath.

" _No,_ I'mabsolutely not!" she then got up from her seat and stole the bottle of bourbon away from him, sitting it next to her ice cream, "I would only do that if you couldn't manage to locate any yummy woodland creatures." Bonnie received a look of disgust in reply and she didn't stop herself from giggling. Damon mouthed _"Rude"_ and covered his face with hands, massaging his temples.

"I'm gonna have to pull a "Stefan Salvatore", aren't I?" he complained, "Eating little squirrels to get me by." Damon rolled off the couch and paced in front of the door.

"Well, not exactly. You could technically just eat human food with me and take a sip of blood every few weeks to survive," Bonnie offered as she walked over to stand with him, "It won't be so bad." Damon's eyelids flew open as he took her by the shoulders, nearly scaring her out of her skin.

" _Weeks?_ You think we will be stuck here for _weeks?"_ his eyes desperately scanned her face for answers. Bonnie's mouth hung open as words couldn't escape her lips. The look on his face was terrifying. Bonnie _knew_ he was depending on her to get them out of there, but without her magic- they were doomed. She didn't know what to say.

"How did your witchy voodoo practice go, huh?" he continued with his hands abruptly running up and down her arms, "Is everything in tip top shape?"

Bonnie drew away from him with a sigh, she decided sitting back down in the lounge chair would be best for what she had to tell him next.

"Damon," she began, "My powers aren't working." For a moment he just stood there and didn't say anything at all. A minute later, he was nodding and taking a _long_ drink of his bourbon.

"That's okay, Bon. Everyone knows your powers go _poof!_ when you're emotionally compromised," he reflected, "You just need a few days to chill and regroup." _Yeah right,_ Bonnie thought to herself, _if we're lucky._ Damon coaxed Bonnie out of her thoughts by gesturing to her bare feet.

"Put your shoes on, we're getting out of here." Bonnie didn't have the energy or desire to argue so she quickly ran upstairs, put on her shoes, and walked out the front door with him. The night air was cold and crisp enough to make a shiver run down her spine. She was only wearing jeans and a blouse which didn't do much for her naked arms. Damon, being perceptive to her needs, took off his long sleeved shirt and draped it over her shoulders. Bonnie gasped, being both surprised by his sudden choice of action but also because he was shirtless.

"Damon, what the hell! Won't you be cold?"

He smiled, throwing back another swig of his drink, "What, Bonnie? Can I not help relieve my friend of her chills?" the moonlight poured across his sleek figure as he swaggered across the Boarding House lawn. "No, I'm not cold," he added, "The liquor keeps me warm." His skin was creamy as milk and his outward appearance seemed content and somewhat at peace for the moment. She gave a little grin.

"Where did you get this old shirt anyway?"

Damon swung the door open and held it for her to pass by, "I grabbed it out of the Thrift Shop on Main Street," he shut the door behind himself. "It's not _old,_ Bonnie. It's sexy."

Bonnie scoffed as she sauntered over to the kitchen, secretly hoping he would go to bed so she could sneak a few more snacks into her mouth. Before she could even reach into the cabinet, Damon slid up beside her and tossed a sandwich on the kitchen island. Bonnie excitedly took a seat in one of the bar stools and tore the wrapping off. Damon was smirking, flipping through a newspaper while leaning against the counter. She nearly choked.

"You found a _newspaper?_ "

"Yep. It was at the grocery store. It looks like we're stuck in the 1990's, Bon Bon." Bonnie hastily dropped her sandwich and yanked the paper away from him. She flipped back to the front page of the paper and searched for the date- _May 10, 1994_. She scrunched her nose in confusion. Turning to Damon, she noticed his expression was downcast and somewhat concerning.

"Damon, does this date mean anything to you?"

His eyes slowly met hers in the darkness and he shrugged. _What was he keeping from her?_

"It's okay, we can figure out what's going on after a good night's sleep," she softly whispered, sensing his uneasiness. Damon's demeanor began to shift back to normal as he sent her a smile.

"Well, you enjoy that sandwich, Witchy," he stepped behind her and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "I _did_ happen to wrap it with all the love in my heart." The pace of Bonnie's heart rapidly increased due to his close proximity and the fact that he was half naked. With a deep breath, Bonnie decided to collect herself and swiveled around to meet him face to face. His torso challengingly pressed into her knees. Bonnie defiantly crossed her arms.

"No you didn't. It was pre-packaged." Damon pushed through her knees and came very close to her face, playful eyes dancing.

"You're right, I didn't." With a wink, he swiftly removed himself from in-between her legs and headed out of the kitchen- bourbon in hand. Bonnie realized she had been holding her breath ever since she faced him. Damon stopped just before he left her range of vision, sticking his free hand into his pocket.

"Hey, uh…I just wanted to apologize for going into hysterics earlier," he mumbled, "That was kind of embarrassing." Bonnie was shocked to hear of _all_ the things to come out of Damon Salvatore's mouth- _an apology?_ She quickly nodded before he became worried at her silence.

"Don't worry about it. We _did_ just die, after all," she gave a soothing smile, "Hysterics are appropriate." Damon seemed to lighten at her words which made Bonnie swell with pride.

"I'm going to bed," he announced, "You can have any of the other rooms, the choice is yours," he informed her, looking over his shoulder. "Unless you get nightmares. In that case, I'm not afraid to cuddle!"

Bonnie over exaggeratingly rolled her eyes into her skull and shooed him away.

"I'll be fine. I'm pretty sure cuddling with _you_ would give me nightmares." Damon clutched his heart as if she'd wounded him and laughed.

"Nonetheless, you know where to find me if you need me. Did you lock the door, Bon Bon?" he was already a foot out of the kitchen and aimlessly calling behind himself. Bonnie felt an oncoming migraine. _This is why I was going to live across the street._

"Good _night_ , Damon!" she shouted, stuffing the rest of the sandwich in her mouth. She could hear him snickering all the way in his room. Bonnie decided that should would _have_ to hide all the alcohol in the house until he fully regains his senses. He enjoyed driving her crazy a little too much and it was only the second day in.

Later in the early morning, Bonnie was well-fed and ready to get some more sleep. Out of all the other rooms she couldn't think of better one than Stefan's. Part of her felt a bit awkward as she climbed the stairs and walked through his door to find it relatively the same even being the 90's version. She had only been in Stefan's room a couple other times by accident, and _way_ back when he was with Elena. It made her sad to think she may never see them again. _Now imagine how Damon feels._

Bonnie relaxed onto his comfy bed and regarded the room with all its pictures and antiques. Being in Stefan's room somehow made her feel closer to home and helped keep her hope at bay. It was comforting. Unlike the rest of the guest rooms, Stefan's had character and lots of things to look at to keep her occupied. Maybe later she would start combing through books on his desk, or take a nice hot shower and meditate. More importantly, she had to work on her spells. Like Damon said, they were not here on vacation. Bonnie took off her shoes once again and slipped out of her jeans. She discarded Damon's shirt from her shoulders and laid it across her new dresser. She smiled, running her hand over the smooth flannel material. 90's fashion is something she would have to get used to. Sliding beneath the comforter, she felt calm and serene for the first time in this new world. All problems and other confusing matters would be dealt with another day- _including Damon._


	2. Day 2

_**Day Two (Continued)**_

The sweet sound of a rhythmic melody drifted through the walls and caressed Bonnie's sleepy senses. She yawned, stretching out her sore limbs while willing her heavy eyelids to pry open. The intense light of day shocked her pupils, making her groan and cover her face with a pillow. _Weren't the curtains shut before I went to sleep?_

"Good morning, Sleepy Head," an amused Damon chimed. "Or, should I say, afternoon?"

Bonnie nearly screeched, throwing the pillow away from her face and aiming for her current agitation which was pleasantly leaned against her doorway. Damon swiftly caught the pillow with one hand.

" _Damon,"_ she seethed, "Get out of my bedroom before I do something I'll regret." He gave a sly smile, casually walking toward her bedside.

"First of all, this is my brothers' room," he began, sitting softly by her feet. "Secondly, what do you have in mind?"

Bonnie threw a punch to his shoulder with a scowl. He grimaced.

" _That's_ what I have in mind." Flustered, she nearly pushed her covers back to get out of bed before she felt her thin, lacy underwear rub against her fingertips. She gasped, practically grabbing enough of the comforter to hide everything up to her chin. "How long have I been asleep?"

Damon crossed his arms, giving her question some thought. After a minute he shrugged.

"It's two o'clock, so at _least_ eight hours." Bonnie nodded, satisfied with the number of hours she contributed to rest. The tasks the pair had ahead of them would be nothing less than difficult and rest would be crucial in getting anything accomplished. Damon stood up, lazily stretching his arms over his head. He was, unsurprisingly, still shirtless and wearing nothing but the black sweat pants from the previous night.

"I was kidding earlier, you know?" he stated, grabbing his discarded plaid shirt from her dresser and sauntering over to the open doorway, "When I said 'What do you have in mind?'"

Bonnie awkwardly gulped, unsure of his meaning.

"Even though I'm _dead_ , I'm still in love with Elena," he continued, noting her confusion. "I would never put any moves on you, Judgey. Don't worry." With an unabashed wink, he slipped on his shirt and exited the room.

"Come downstairs and get some breakfast when you're ready!" he called, his voice fading away against the stream of music. Bonnie was lost in thought as she could vaguely feel herself sliding out of bed and into her jeans. She finally decided to shrug away his words with a confident lift of her chin.

"Well, guess what Damon Salvatore? I expect nothing less," she absentmindedly mumbled as she went into Stefan's bathroom to freshen up for the day.

…

Bonnie almost felt at home when she stepped into the warm, cozy kitchen that smelled of breakfast food and hummed with 90's music. She smirked as she observed Damon swaying through the kitchen, flipping pancakes with one hand and tipping back his bourbon with the other. The music was coming through an old stereo positioned behind him on the counter and she couldn't help but go over and check it out.

"Oh my God, where did you find these cassettes?" Bonnie marveled, flipping through the box of tapes next to the stereo. Damon flopped a few pancakes onto a plate and walked over to place them on the large kitchen table next to the fireplace.

"I didn't need to _find_ them, they were already here. Stefan and I had a collection." He motioned her to sit at the table with a tilt of his head in which she complied.

"So you're a big Pearl Jam fan?" she smirked, poking at her plate of strangely looking pancakes before cautiously taking a bite. "And since when are you into cooking?"

"Most of those are my brothers," he confessed, "But the Salt N Pepa ones are _all_ mine." A bubbly giggle slipped from Bonnie's lips which made her quickly cover her full mouth with the back of her hand. Picturing Damon Salvatore getting down to some Selt N Pepa was enough to make anyone laugh. He grinned in her direction, seeming somewhat pleased that he could get a rise out of her. He noticed her anxious behavior ever since their arrival and was glad she was relaxing a little. He placed his bourbon next to the sink for later. Taking a seat across from her, he continued. "I used to cook all the time, Bonnie, I assure you. My skills are just a bit rusty." After a moment, Bonnie suddenly cringed as she hurriedly brought a cup of coffee to her ailing taste buds which, unfortunately, only made it worse.

"Just a _bit?_ These pancakes taste like a mouthful of flour," she mumbled, fiercely reaching for a glass of water. She drank it down in one long gulp while Damon concernedly watched her demonstrations. She then pushed her coffee mug towards him with a disgusted expression. "That coffee tastes like dirt. I don't know _how_ you could even manage that, Damon." He pursed his lips, shifting his crystal blue eyes from her plate of pancakes to her coffee then back again. After a quick moment he shrugged, shaking out his newspaper.

"Well, I admit I was a tad distracted. Waking up in the 90's while simultaneously being dead was _kinda_ getting to me this morning," he rambled, failing to make her feel better. "I didsay I was rusty. So _technically_ , I warned you."

"You "warned" me while I was eating," Bonnie glared, "So, _technically_ it doesn't count." Damon grinned at her remark as she scooped up her plate of defective pancakes and drink glasses. "Next time, _I'll_ be doing the cooking."

Bonnie sent him one last annoyed look before she took the liberty of washing the dishes and cleaning the rest of the kitchen. After the chore was complete, she glanced over at Damon who was skimming through the paper. She crossed her arms, thoughts whirling through her head.

"Is that the same newspaper from last night?" she asked as she strode over to lean against the fireplace.

"Nope. I took a walk through town before you woke up and found this one." Bonnie glanced at the date over his shoulder and couldn't help but feel confusion.

"It says, May 10th. Wasn't that the date it showed yesterday?"

If she didn't know any better, she could _swear_ she saw Damon begin to fidget. It was hardly even noticeable except for the fact that his eyes were darting across the page and his mouth began to twitch.

"Yeah, I guess it did," he replied, almost inaudibly. Bonnie uncrossed her arms, placing a hand on her hip.

"Mhm. So you're telling me you don't think that's strange, Damon?"

Before she could blink he swiftly closed the newspaper and slid it away.

" _I don't know_ , Bonnie. Obviously the universe is playing one big joke on us, right? I mean, we're _dead_ huh? Living in the _90's_ for God's sake," he exclaimed as he quickly stood and walked in another direction. "Let's just say this place is my hell and leave it at that."

Bonnie couldn't believe the defensive tone in his voice and had no idea what he was keeping from her. _What does "my hell" supposed to mean?_ She shook her head, clearing her thoughts away. For now, she decided to leave the subject alone. After all, she couldn't really _go_ anywhere to escape an angry Damon.

"Okay, Okay," she surrendered. "Though, I'm _pretty_ sure this isn't exactly my idea of paradise either." Damon was facing away from her, posture stiff and rigid while he stared out the kitchen window. After hearing her words of defeat, his body slowly began to relax as he swiveled around to meet her gaze. His smile was soft but his eyes were troubled.

"Well, anyway, I will do my best to get better with the cooking," he promised. "However, you should just take over doing the coffee- I'm more of a _blood_ , guy." Bonnie rolled her eyes as he dramatically widened his baby blues when he emphasized "blood". _Gee, looks like normal Damon is back._

"Speaking of _'blood'_ ," she mimicked, eyes popping out of her head, "Are you going to go find some this afternoon?"

Damon smirked at her actions, running his fingers through his hair.

"Since you're a meany and won't lend me yours, _yes_ , Bonnie. I'm going on the hunt for a friendly woodland creature." Damon began to button up his plaid shirt until he stopped in the middle of his chest. He glanced up at her as he smoothed the fabric. "Will you be okay while I'm gone?"

Bonnie was taken aback by his concern for her wellbeing. She knew Damon cared about her but was also surprised when he chose to make it evident- _especially_ when there was no one to hurt her in this new world. She nodded, slowly rubbing her bare arms in up and down motions.

"I'll be fine. I was going to start my day off with some yoga, anyway. Thought it might clear my head to do some magic." Damon laughed, raising a brow.

" _Yoga?_ Since when do you do yoga?"

Bonnie grinned as she swept out of the kitchen and towards the living room. When they arrived, she stopped and turned around to face him.

"See, Damon? This whole journey of ours will end up teaching us a _lot_ about each other," she chimed, patting him on the shoulder. A smile still remained on his lips as he shook his head. "Truthfully," she added, "I bought some instructional yoga DVD's off an infomercial last month. I don't know a lot of positions yet." Damon's eyes lit up with mischievous intent as he took a few steps back and began to stretch his limbs.

"Well, Bon Bon, it so happens you're in luck," he announced, "You'd be _surprised_ how many positions I'm familiar with." It only took her a few strides to swing a punch directly into his arm. He frowned, intently nursing the sore spot. "Hey, quit it with the punching!"

Bonnie scowled. "No, I'm actually _not_ surprised _._ You're disgusting. Can you ever _not_ be sickening, Damon?" she scolded as she grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him towards the door. "We were having a nice, normal conversation until you _always_ find a way to include something slimy and inappropriate. Why is that?" she continued, finally pushing him out of the doorway. The moment his lips parted to answer she quickly held up a finger and shook her head. "Never mind. I don't wanna know."

"But it's for your _magic_ ," he implored, trying to get a word in before the door could slam in his face. "Working on your magic is the most important thing we can do," he held up his palm as if he were swearing an oath, "I was talking about yoga positions, I promise." She narrowed her eyes at his unsuitable explanation.

"Whatever, Damon. My magic and I will work with the positions we know." She turned to walk away but before closing the door she added, "When you get back we're going shopping."

"Food?" he asked.

"Clothes," Bonnie replied. "I don't plan on wearing the same outfit for the rest of my afterlife." Once she saw Damon nodding in agreement, she shut the door and walked back towards the living room to do warm-up stretching.

"But we can stop by the grocery store before we head home, right?" he yelled on the opposite side of the door. "You're not going to take the rest of the day for a shopping extravaganza are you, Bon?"

When she didn't answer, he continued. "I was thinking maybe you could make spaghetti tonight- or I guess, _we_ can make spaghetti tonight," he shouted, "Is that okay? _Hello?"_

Bonnie was on the floor stretching her fingertips to her toes with her eyes practically rolled in the back of her head with her lips pressed tight. She let out a heavy sigh.

" _Yes, Damon!_ It's fine! Now get the hell out of here before I blow this house off the earth."

There was a moment of silence before Damon's lowered voice came whispering through the door as if he were talking to himself.

"Well, we're not _really_ on the earth. And your magic isn't working so…"

" _Damon!"_

"Okay, I'm leaving," he hastily replied, zooming away with vampire velocity. Bonnie groaned as she flopped down on her back, her arms spread over her head. _Screw yoga_. How is she supposed to clear her head when there is a _huge_ chance that she could be living, _alone,_ with Damon Salvatore for the rest of eternity?

"Like I said- Notmy idea of paradise," she muttered. Instead of doing the responsible thing, like Bonnie Bennett was _always_ supposed to do, she walked her pretty butt to the kitchen and snagged Damon's bourbon off the counter. She wasn't aiming to get drunk, but she was definitely looking for a release. Without a moment's hesitation, she threw back the bottle and let the alcohol burn a track down her throat. _I'm sure Damon wouldn't mind,_ she thought. _It's about time he learned how to share anyway._

…

Damon had snacked on a few innocent squirrels before he came home and accompanied Bonnie to a local clothing store. It wasn't as dumpy as the Thrift Shop but not as fancy as some in a mall. They were walking in circles around the store, checking rack after rack for the perfect clothing choices.

"At least it isn't winter here," Bonnie sighed. "That would make it seem even more hellish." She pulled a pair of overalls off a hanger and held it against her body. With a nod of satisfaction, she turned to Damon. "Is this okay? I mean, for a 90's outfit?"

"Uh- yeah. Sure, I guess," he uneasily replied. Damon had never really even shopped with Elena so he had no idea what to say. The whole situation was entirely unfamiliar. "There's uh, long-sleeve purple shirt over there that would look good with it." He pointed at the wall across from where they were standing.

Bonnie turned to look in that direction and went over to grab the shirt. She placed it inside the overalls and smiled at the outcome.

"You're right, Damon," she called, "It works. Thank you." He nodded, running his hand over another plaid shirt he found. Maybe having one in red wouldn't hurt.

"I'm about done here," Bonnie relayed. She was moving carefully towards him with a pile of clothes in her arms. " _Please_ tell me you found some clothes too." He shrugged holding up a couple pairs of jeans, socks, shirts, and some shorts for bed.

"What is it with you and plaid?" she laughed, eyeing his stack of shirts.

"You said it yourself- it's the _90's."_

They walked in content silence with their new clothes in hand. Damon glanced at her from the corner of his eye, noticing that she was far less wound up than when he left her to go hunting.

"So," he began, "The yoga went okay? Did it spark anything?"

Bonnie tensed, eyes averting his gaze. "No, nothing sparked yet." She adjusted the clothes in her grasp, finally willing herself to look at him.

"I'm sorry, Damon. I'll try again tomorrow. It's only the second day, you know." He nodded, briefly feeling the pang of disappointment in his stomach. He tapped her on the shoulder when he saw the grocery store come into view.

"I'm gonna go grab some stuff for dinner. Just wait here, I'll be right back."

Bonnie quickly grabbed his wrist. "I can push the cart if you want," she offered. "That's my favorite part of grocery shopping." Damon grinned, patting her delicate hand before removing it from his wrist.

"Well, it just so happens that's _my_ favorite part as well." Bonnie sent him a look.

"Don't worry yourself, Little Witch. You can help another day. I'll be like _five_ seconds, hold on." In a flash, Damon placed his clothes on top of hers and flew into the store. Bonnie barely had any time to complain before he was back with grocery bags in hand and his clothes removed from her pile and slung over his shoulder. He smirked as he urged her to continue walking back home.

Bonnie shook her head at his cheeky vampire behavior. Glancing at the sky, she noticed the afternoon was nearly drawing to a close. She gasped at what she saw next. The moon began to pass between the earth and the sun, causing a shadow to cover Mystic Falls in a solar eclipse. _Again._ Were they actually reliving the same day?

"Damon!"

"What? Are you still mad I didn't let you push the cart?"

Bonnie harshly exhaled. " _No._ Why aren't you paying attention?Look at the sky!"

A questioning look spread across his face as he turned his head upward but was soon erased as he viewed the unbelievable sight. His eyes grew wide, mouth dropping open.

"What the hell?" she could hear him murmur. The pair stood stock still in their tracks until the eclipse had passed, the shadow it created evaporating with it. Damon finally peeled his eyes away and looked over into Bonnie's fearfully unsure ones.

"To answer your previous question- _Yes, Bonnie._ I think it's very strange."

…

The rest of the day wound down as normally as it could. They played a few board games until the evening rolled around and then made their way to the kitchen to prepare dinner. They came to an agreement that Damon would make the spaghetti sauce while Bonnie cooked the pasta and set the table. The pair were still a bit shaken up over the fact that they were destined to relive the same day over and over again until they could find a way to escape. _If escape was even possible._ Bonnie, even more concerned, because Damon refused to divulge any information on the reason why. She was winding her spaghetti around her fork, silent and deep in thought. Absentmindedly, she heard Damon clear his throat.

"Do you like it? I think it turned out pretty good."

"Yeah, it's delicious," she softly replied with a smile. "I'm somewhat relieved we can handle teamwork." He returned her smile, finishing his plate of spaghetti and retreating to the sink.

"Of _course_ we can handle teamwork, Bon Bon. All we have to do is not kill each other."

She laughed despite her uneasiness, getting up from the seat and sliding her plate in the sink next to his.

"That's easier said than done."

He winked, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn.

"Hey, why did you want spaghetti for dinner anyway?" Bonnie asked, grabbing their drink glasses off the table and brushing away crumbs. He shrugged.

"Because I like Italian food. Is that a good enough reason?"

She rolled her eyes. Finally finishing up the kitchen, she grabbed her pile of clothes that she left on the floor when they returned home.

"Fine. Tomorrow _I_ get to choose, so don't get any ideas."

"I wouldn't _dream_ of it, Bonnie dear." He gave her a grin before he retrieved his own clothes off the floor and walked towards the direction of the living room. He abruptly stopped, spinning around to gaze around the kitchen.

"Have you seen my bourbon anywhere?" he asked. "I swear I left it in the kitchen." Bonnie could feel her face flush and she was certain Damon noticed it as well. She firmly pressed the pile of clothes into her chest, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

"Um. I haven't seen it…lately."

His eyes narrowed as he slowly made his way back to the kitchen. He pursed his lips as he began circling around her like a lion trapping its prey.

" _Lately?_ "

"Yes. Not since this afternoon."

Damon suddenly stopped directly in front of her so they were eye to eye. She gulped. _This is exactly why I needed a drink!_

"Where is it Bonnie?"

She pointed to the cabinet under the sink in which Damon swiftly flew over to and flung open, revealing the elusive bottle of bourbon. _Almost empty._

"Ha! I _knew_ it!" he amusedly shouted, pointing his own finger back at her like a little boy in grade school. He grabbed the bottle and danced around the kitchen with clothes in hand, laughing like an idiot. She stomped her foot.

"So _what?_ I had a little drink after you left. You were driving me _crazy!_ " she defended, one arm flung up in the air. His dancing ceased to a halt as he eyed her again, a smile playing on his lips.

"You never did any yoga at all, _did you?"_

She huffed. " _No._ I'm sorry! I know practicing my magic is important but I _had_ to take a break. It was basically your fault."

Damon let out wild laugh again and Bonnie couldn't help but become even more defensive.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you keep laughing?"

Damon wiped the tears from his eyes and walked past her with a shake of his head.

"Because it's _funny._ I knew you seemed too relaxed by the time I got home. You weren't exhibiting your typical- 'Bonnie behavior'." She groaned, gathering the clothes close to her and following him out of the kitchen.

"I thought you would be mad!" she kicked his heel, "You know, typical 'Damon behavior'?"

" _Please,_ Bonnie," he stopped walking so he could easily elbow her, "As long as you're working on getting us out of here and drinking simultaneously, _I don't care."_ He winked, turning to leave the room. "And don't flatter yourself. The bottle was more than halfway gone when I left. No one can outdrink Damon Salvatore." Bonnie's level of annoyance was continuing to climb as her new housemate continued to chuckle his way to his bedroom.

"Next time you want a drink," he yelled, "Just help yourself to the bar and stop sneaking stuff around. I'm _definitely_ not campus security."

…

For the rest of the night and into the early morning, Bonnie had been taken several of her clothes to the laundry and folded the rest into neat stacks atop her dresser. She wasn't quite ready to sort it all into drawers yet and it was nearly one o'clock in morning, so she decided to go downstairs and pick a movie to watch until she fell asleep. The choices were endless- rows of VHS tapes lined the shelf next to the television and she was somewhat indecisive. Suddenly, one particular movie caught her eye and she couldn't help but feel excited that it was actually here. Running her finger across the spine, she pulled it off the shelf and out of its case.

Sooner or later, she got the tape working and didn't even have to rewind it. She sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the TV and after about an hour felt herself slowly descend into sleep.

"The Bodyguard, huh?" a voice called from behind her. Bonnie jolted forward, involuntarily grasping her shirt over her heart. Craning her neck around, she sighed when she saw Damon standing there in nothing but a pair of his new shorts he had picked that day. He was smiling as he messed up his dark locks with his long, tender fingers.

"It's my favorite," she shrugged in reply. He nodded, running a hand over his face as he meandered over to sit next to her.

"I've seen it a few times, myself."

Bonnie eyed him suspiciously through the darkness. He was innocently sitting to the right of her with his knuckles beneath his chin. The streams of light from the TV cast a glow over the both of them, illuminating his bright blue eyes. After a moment, Bonnie came to the realization that he was _actually_ watching the movie and averted her stare back to the television.

The last thing she remembered before drifting off into the weightlessness of sleep was Rachel leaping into Frank's arms as they pressed a passionate kiss against each other's lips, the feel of a soft blanket being drawn over her skin, and a soothingly familiar voice whisper, "Good night, Bon."


	3. Day 3

**A/N: Hey guys! I just wanted to thank you all so much for reading this and writing kind reviews. These characters are everything to me and I'm glad you're giving the story a chance. I've gotten a few questions about whether Bamon will go in a romantic direction in this version and I can say with certainty they will NOT. I'm attempting to keep it as close to the show as possible while adding some Bamon angsty/sexual tension stuff that everyone knows and loves ;) I apologize for any "OOC moments", but it** _ **is**_ **fanfiction after all. I hope you continue on this journey with me!**

 **Disclaimer: As always, I do not own these characters. Only the writing.**

…

 _ **Day Three**_

"Give those back!" Bonnie shrieked. She lunged for Damon across the kitchen island where he was dangling a pair of pink, dainty panties in her face. She fiercely grabbed the undergarment, stuffing into her pocket. After the exertion of chasing the idiotic male around the kitchen for half an hour, Bonnie could hardly let out breath without panting.

"What," she huffed, "-in the _hell_ is wrong with you?!" she snatched a wooden spoon off the counter and chucked it directly at Damon's head. "Why couldn't you just tell me to move my laundry like a _normal_ person?"

Damon was grinning from ear to ear at her flustered state. She could tell he was practically _enjoying_ seeing her squirm. He caught the spoon, gently laying it down.

"How exactly was _I_ supposed to know you already had your laundry going? I just went to put my clothes in the dryer and found your girly stuff invading my space." Bonnie gasped, eyes going wide. She crossed her arms.

"My 'girly stuff'?" she air-quoted. "Invading _your_ space?"

"That's what I saiddd,"Damon chimed, taking his usual seat at the table while turning around to face her. Bonnie could hardly keep her composure while a smirk spread across his lips.

"I'm pretty sure _I'm_ the one who suggested that I live in another house and _you_ practically begged me to come home with you!"

"Are you kidding me? I most certainly did not _beg,"_ he rebuked. "I just thought it would make more sense to live together; considering, oh I don't know, we're the only people _here_!"

Bonnie pursed her lips, clenching and unclenching her fists at her side.

"Yes, Damon. It _would_ make sense to live together. So, don't you think it would make _sense_ that we have to share some things around here?" she grabbed the underwear out of her pocket and shook it agitatedly. "Like, the _laundry?_ " She jammed the item back into her pocket with a glare. "Why did you have to bring my underwear to the breakfast table, anyway?"

Damon snorted as he removed himself from his seat and went to gather plates of his "reinvented" pancakes as he so called them.

"It's not like I could ignore them! They were on the top of the pile. I couldn't resist." He sent her a wink to break up the tension in the air, placing the food on the table and sitting down. He spread his napkin across his lap, motioning for her to join him at the table. She shook her head in refusal. Damon sighed, slowly pivoting around to raise his hands in defeat.

"Listen, Bon Bon. I'm sorry _._ I didn't mean to embarrass you! I thought it was funny." Bonnie paused to mumble something undignified under her breath before she finally took her seat at the table. Damon's blue eyes gleamed as he pushed the pancakes towards her.

"Your definition of 'funny', and _mine_ , are vastly different," she retorted.

"If you're worried about what I saw, don't be. I'm _very_ familiar with women's undergarments, believe it or not." Damon poured her a cup of coffee, which _she_ prepared earlier, and held it out for her to receive.

Bonnie took the coffee, unable to stop herself from cracking a smile. Before she could smooth away her expression, Damon noticed, grinning with delight.

"I knew you couldn't stay mad at me for long. I'm too irresistible! Like one of those TV shows you say you hate but end up binge-watching." She rolled her eyes, quickly bringing the mug to her lips in order to suppress another smile. Damon eyed her with faux suspicion.

"You're _not_ still mad at me, are you?" he questioned. "Are you mad about something else? Like the fact I let you sleep on the floor last night?"

Bonnie sat the coffee down, tilting her head to side with amusement.

"No _,_ I'm not mad at you. Not about either of those things," she replied, cutting off a piece of pancake and sticking it into her mouth. "I just have an _intense_ urge to strangle you."

Damon raised a brow as he dug his silverware into his breakfast.

"Oh, yeah? So if you're not mad, what would you exactly say you are?"

Bonnie hummed with thought, swallowing the not-so-disgusting pancake before giving her answer.

"Homicidal," she quipped, sweetly batting her eyelashes. Damon shook his head, laughter bubbling from his chest.

"Well, I'm afraid to tell you that position has already been filled, ma'am. Try again."

…

After breakfast was finished, Bonnie congratulated Damon on a job well done with the pancakes, in which he wouldn't stop boasting until she informed him they were a _tad_ bit underdone. Then, she excused herself to take care of her remaining laundry while Damon loaded his own clothes into the empty dryer. Chores complete, they both gathered in the living room, Bonnie curled up on the couch and Damon pouring himself a drink at the bar. She sighed, conflicted on whether or not to continue their previous conversation. They hadn't _really_ come to a decision on how to equally share the mansion and split the work without stepping on each other's toes- and she wasn't about to let him get away with it.

"Seriously though, Damon," she announced. "We _have_ to set some boundaries in this relationship. Neither of us has any idea how long we will be stuck here, and I don't know _what_ I would do if I caught you with my laundry again." Damon tipped a glass of bourbon to his lips, sticking his free hand into his pocket. His eyes were whirling with mischief.

"So, we're in a relationship now?" he inquired, eyebrows wiggling. Bonnie felt heat rising to her cheeks, her heart beginning to thud.

" _Friendship_ ," she amended. "We need to set boundaries in this friendship." Damon nodded as he finished off his glass and turned his back to prepare more.

"Okay. What do you have in mind?"

Bonnie pushed herself up on her elbows, swinging her legs out to land on the floor. Adjusting her shirt, she took a deep breath and began.

"I was thinking we could come up with a schedule. A way to split work and fun between ourselves without pissing each other off." Damon laughed, spinning back around to meet her gaze.

"What exactly would qualify as 'fun'?"

"I don't know. Anything entertaining, I suppose. Alone time, or when we play board games or watch movies together."

"Yeah. I guess that's sort of fun," he shrugged with a quirk of his mouth. "What would qualify as 'work'?"

"Practicing my magic, cleaning the house, preparing breakfast and dinner, that sort of thing." Bonnie paused, patting the pocket of her jeans, "Also, perhaps, _laundry_." She smirked, intending the last part of her information to be a playful jab at their prior conversation. Damon seemed to get the message, raising his glass to her with his head bowing in understanding.

"So how do we split up everything? Make a chart?"

"I was _hoping_ we could just remember to take turns doing shifts," she laughed. "You made breakfast today, I make it tomorrow. You made dinner last night, I make it tonight…"

"Wait, wait, wait," he hushed, throwing up his hands, bourbon sloshing over the side of the glass. Bonnie scrunched her brow in confusion.

"What? What's wrong?"

"I _like_ making breakfast, Bonnie. I sort of have a feeling it's going to be…my 'thing'," he explained, waltzing up to stand in front of her. "I don't wanna take shifts on that."

Bonnie took a moment to soak in his concerns, intertwining her fingers while thoughtfully tapping her foot.

"Alright, sure, calm down. That's easy enough."

"Thank you," he nodded, sitting on the opposite side of the couch. "About dinner shifts- technically _we_ prepared it together, I only chose the meal. I like that set up. That way, we can work on our teamwork every night at dinner while we take turns choosing what we're eating." Bonnie intently pondered his words, somewhat surprised she felt the same.

"Wow, Damon. It's scary you're actually making sense." He scoffed, slinging back his drink then gesturing to her with a grin.

"Hey, I get to make sense _sometimes._ Be fair." Bonnie shrugged her shoulders with a little smile.

"Okay then. All we have to do is take turns with everything else, right? I cleaned the house yesterday, you can today. The laundry is yours today, I'll do another load tomorrow. So on and so forth." Damon was bobbing his head, listening and seemingly agreeing with every word.

"We can even do that 'alone time' thing today too, if you want," Bonnie suggested, propping her head against her knuckle on the arm rest.

"What exactly would we do in this 'alone time'?"

"Anything you want. _I_ am going upstairs to relax and work on my spells in peace and quiet. You can go out hunting for squirrels or something." Damon cringed, finishing off his drink with a look of disgust.

"But I don't _wanna_ do that," he whined. "Their blood is an acquired taste that I simply do not have." Bonnie cackled despite the downcast expression on his face. As she pulled herself away from the couch, an interesting thought popped into her mind. In a moment of quick determination, she grasped the end of her sleeve with her opposite hand and dragged it up- revealing her tantalizing brown wrist. She sucked in her breath, slowing raising her wrist to meet Damon's enquiring eyes.

"If you're going to be a baby about it, just have some of mine." She intended her voice to be thick with confidence, but ended up sounding almost imperceptible. _This is totally not a big deal,_ she consoled herself. Damon had supplied her with his _own_ blood a time before when her life depended on it, and now wouldn't be any different. She was living with a vampire whose needs had to be met whether she enjoyed the procedure or not. Though, in all honesty, she was testing him. Damon flipping out on blood lust wouldn't be good for eitherof them, but especially _her_. Without her magic she felt unarmed, defenseless, exposed- _vulnerable._ How could she possibly endure the rest of eternity like this?

After a moment, he cocked his head, lips pursed in his musings. He suddenly smiled.

"As _much_ as I'd love to take you up on that offer- I can't. I wouldn't do that unless I had to. My blood lust actually isn't bad at all." Bonnie's eyebrows raised in speculation. _It's almost as if he knew my intention…_

"You're _sure_ you don't need any? I don't think I'm going to offer ever again."

"Trust me, Bon. If I was in desperate need I would have lunged the moment you rolled up your sleeve."

"Gee, that's reassuring…" Bonnie sarcastically mumbled, a shiver running over her spine. Damon casually pushed himself off the couch and over towards the bar, sitting his empty glass down. With his blue eyes aglow, he silently made his way over to her, reaching forward to take her presented arm gently between his hands. His smooth fingers glided over the fabric of her shirt, grasping the delicate lace patterns as he pulled with careful concentration across her skin. Once her sleeve had been completely rolled down, he squeezed her tender wrist with a silent _'thank you'_ mouthed from his lips, before he ambled to the front door. Bonnie exhaled, slowly wrapping her arms around herself. She hadn't taken a breath since she rolled up her sleeve.

"That's really the only good thing about this place!" Damon exclaimed. "I can _almost_ feel human again." He smiled, yanking the door open. Bonnie's senses were quick to recover after being partially stunned by Damon's sentimental gesture.

"Well, uh- that's good to hear, I guess," she hollered back, moving swiftly in his direction before he could depart. She placed her hand on the doorframe. "Where are you going?"

Damon glanced down at his wrist and gave it a light _tap._ "Judging by my watch, it is clearly my 'alone time,' Bonnie. In which I'm going to go do _alone_ things."

"So you're saying 'alone time' will always be scheduled after breakfast?"

Damon held up his imaginary watch to her face. "That's what the clock says. I'm just relaying the message." Bonnie rolled her eyes skyward, fingers reaching to rub against her temples. _His good moments really don't seem to last very long._ Turning around, she kicked the door closed with her heel.

"He's a twelve year old, I swear to God…"

"Hey! I can _hear_ you," Damon bellowed from the other side of the door. "You're just grumpy I'm leaving because you secretly realized you love spending time with me." Bonnie was halfway across the room before she wheeled around to stare at the door with her arms crossed.

"Is that so? Then why did I slam the door in your face?"

There was a brief moment of silence before she heard a scoff. "Easy," he replied. "You're just denying your true feelings."

"The _only_ feelings I'm having right now are the reoccurring ones where I want to strangle you!" she exclaimed, stomping off towards her bedroom before circling back to grab his bottle of bourbon. "Now go have that 'alone time' I've heard so much about." She heard Damon laughing as she made her way down the hall.

"Don't mind if I do! Have fun with your spells, Bon Bon," his voice reverberated.

…

"Damn it! _God. Damnit._ " Bonnie heaved an innocent stack of books across the room and flung herself, face down, on the bed. Her eyelids burned, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. She wasn't _angry,_ really- just _frustrated_ beyond comprehension. Why in the hell wouldn't her magic work? Was it her fault or was this universe somehow to blame? Bonnie rolled onto her back, head pounding. _So many questions, not so many answers._

The moment Damon had left, Bonnie went up to her room to wind down. Consuming a glass or two of bourbon before opting for meditation, she settled herself in to get ready to do some magic. She felt a sense of contentment and balance for the first time in days, her head clearing and heart thumping a regular beat. The fact that the voice of her annoying housemate was absent wasn't too bad either. Everything was going so smoothly, Bonnie should have known it was too good to be true. The instant the first spell escaped her lips and _nothing_ happened, again, her breath caught in her throat. She tried again, again, and again until she was practically yelling at the top of her lungs and gesturing wildly with her arms. After an hour had passed, Bonnie gave up. Mostly because she had exhausted herself, but also because her confidence was shot. What good was she to Damon or even worse, _herself,_ if she couldn't even manage to make an object float? Could she really call herself a witch?

Now here she was. Laying on the bed feeling sorry for herself, three hours gone by. The morning had quickly morphed into the afternoon and Damon still hadn't returned.

"Maybe one of the squirrels ate him," she muttered. "He would probably prefer that rather than being trapped here for eternity." She sighed, grudgingly dragging herself off the bed to retrieve the fallen books. She bent down, slowly gathering them into her arms as a dark shadow rapidly cast itself across the bedroom and over her feet. Bonnie shrieked, springing upward, books clutched to her chest. She was facing the window, deep brown eyes turned to the sky. _Oh,_ she calmed herself. _It's just the solar eclipse._ A minute or two passed before the rays of sun poured themselves back into the room, its comforting warm light covering her troubled heart. Bonnie laid the books back on the desk and went into the bathroom to freshen up before Damon came home. She already felt bad enough without him letting her know her hair was going in five different directions.

…

Bonnie settled herself on the couch in front of the TV in the living room, awaiting Damon's arrival. She was snuggled up in a blanket, her choice of clothing being a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top, left her feeling somewhat chilly in the empty Boarding House. Finally, after another hour, the door clicked- giving way to the obnoxious sound of footsteps and Damon's horrid singing of "Hotel California" filling the room. Bonnie furrowed her brow, whipping her head around to press a finger to her lips.

"Shh, cut that out! I can't hear what they're saying," she chided. Damon smirked, flinging his discarded plaid shirt over his shoulder. He was left wearing nothing but a white undershirt and some jeans. Bonnie quickly appraised his looks before returning to her movie, grasping a pillow to her chest in frustration.

"You might not be able to _hear_ what they're saying but you _know_ ," he teased. Damon took his time sauntering over to the couch, he threw his shirt onto a table before flopping down to sit on the opposite side. Bonnie's eyes refused to glance in his direction; she was completely engrossed watching the couple displayed across the screen.

"I'm about to miss my favorite part, Damon! Shut your mouth."

He laughed, jostling the cushions as he shifted his weight. "We literally just watched this last night." Bonnie slowly craned her neck around with a vengeful look in her eye.

"I'm not going to ask you again."

Damon, sensing her blood about to boil over, leaned away to zip his fingers across his lips. She nodded, returning her attention to the movie.

About ten minutes later, she heard him clear his throat.

" _So,_ are you going to be a good roomie ask me about my day?"

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"No thanks."

"Oh, alright, I'm sorry. How was _your_ day?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "I don't wanna talk about that right now, Damon." She could almost feel his eyes boring a hole into her back.

"Okay…what about dinner? I thought you would be getting stuff out for that before I got home."

"I'm not really hungry. You can go ahead and eat though." The room filled with silence, other than the muffled dialogue coming through the speakers. She heard Damon taking a deep breath then releasing it. Suddenly, he hopped off the couch and headed in the direction of the kitchen.

"Hold on, I'll be right back!" he called over his shoulder. Bonnie shook her head, readjusting the pillows behind her and the one in her lap. _What could he be up to?_

After a minute, Damon reemerged from the kitchen with a plate in each hand. Bonnie leaned her head backwards to see what items they contained.

"Peanut butter and jelly. Bon appetite'," he grinned. She sighed, although she hated to admit she felt a smile tugging at her lips. Damon placed the sandwich in her lap before settling down beside her again, this time, a _little_ closer. His body was pressed into the pillow against her back; she could feel him propping his elbow near her shoulder. A second later, she covered her nose with her blanket in disgust.

"Oh my God, you reek," she complained. Damon's full mouth let out a garbled chuckle.

"See, you would _know_ why I smell if you would have asked me what I did today." Bonnie took a small bite of her sandwich before reluctantly indulging him.

"You are unbelievable…Okay, _Damon._ What did you do today?"

"Wow, Bonnie. Thanks for asking! That's so kind of you." She groaned, fiercely elbowing him in the stomach. He choked, laughingly pleading her to forgive him.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," he continued, "I spent the entirety of my day running the track at the high school. Then, I helped myself to the fully stocked bar at the Mystic Grill. 'Alone time' was really, very magical for me." Bonnie nodded her head.

"That explains the stench," she mumbled. "You better take a shower sooner rather than later for the sake of our health." Bonnie popped the rest of the sandwich into her mouth as Damon sent her a wink before he quickly swept the plates away, heading back towards the kitchen. She was left alone for hardly even a moment as Damon jumped back into the spot he had assigned himself on the couch.

"I can't believe you skipped your turn on dinner! You messed the whole schedule up just because you're in a mood."

" _Pfft!_ I am not in a mood. You're the one who decided to check out for _four_ hours instead of cleaning the house like you're supposed to."

"Okay- I admit I screwed up on that one. But I wasn't aware 'alone time' had a time limit?"

"It doesn't," she replied. "Just as long as you get your other work done as well."

Damon took a beat, crossing and uncrossing his legs while exhaling a breath.

"This roommate thing is _tricky_ stuff."

Bonnie ran a hand through her short, brown locks. "No one said it would be easy," she stifled.

An extensive moment of silence carried throughout the evening, until Bonnie felt a finger poke square between her shoulders.

"Now that _that's_ behind us- are you gonna tell me what's bothering you?"

Bonnie pressed her lips into a thin line, eyes locked onto the television screen. Her fingernails forcefully dug into the pillow.

"I know you Bonnie, but I don't know you _that_ well. Despite what you think of me, I can't read your mind. So tell me what's up." To emphasize his point, he poked her between the shoulders again. But this time, with an increase in pressure.

"Knock it off, Damon," she growled, swatting behind her shoulder. "There is nothing up with me."

"Oh, really? So this whole 'grouchy, not hungry' _thing_ is typical Bonnie behavior? You were already grouchy before I left today!"

"Don't even start with that 'typical Bonnie behavior' crap again!" she fumed, whirling around to face him.

"I was not grouchy, I was _annoyed,"_ she corrected. "I am _not_ grouchy now, either. Just tired, is all." His scrutinizing ocean blue eyes scanned her face.

"I believe you," he replied. "I just don't think you're telling me the whole story." She gave an exasperated sigh, turning around to gaze at the television once more. She laid her head against the back of the couch.

"How did practicing your magic go?"

Silence.

"Well, I'm gonna take that as _not_ so good…"

"It didn't work. Again," she whispered, giving in to his suspicions. Damon clasped a supportive hand on her shoulder, slightly shaking her.

"Hey, at least you're trying! That's a whole lot better than _not_ trying at all." She disappointedly shrugged.

"You tried the bourbon/meditation/yoga combo though, right?"

" _No,"_ she laughed. "I left out the yoga." He released her shoulder to tap her on the head.

"See, _that's_ the problem. All you gotta do is tweak your methods and next time you'll be fine!"

"Yeah, I guess so. I just don't feel like I'm doing enough. Like I'm the most useless Bennett on the planet…"

"Hey. You're not useless, Bonnie," he consoled. "I think you've proven that plenty of times." She felt Damon shift away from her, leaning into the pile of pillows. She briefly turned around to display a teasing grin before resuming her position between her pillows and blanket.

"Wow, who knew Damon Salvatore could be such a softie?"

" _Me?_ I'm sorry Miss, _clearly_ you've mistaken me with someone else," he snorted, with a playfulness to his voice. "Though, I've heard his jawline _was_ sculpted by heavens angels themselves- so I'll take that as a compliment." Bonnie busted out laughing, covering her mouth before she could stop herself. The mood in the room noticeably lightened.

"Anddd, _there_ he is," she bantered, slightly turning around to jab him in his own shoulder.

"The one and only," he smirked.

…

The pair once again found themselves lounged before the TV, the night slowly dragging its way into the morning. They watched movie after movie until they were practically delirious. Then, they fell into a content silence. Damon widely stretched his arms above his head, a deep yawn escaping his lips. Bonnie subconsciously did the same, reaching her arms high into the air with a lengthy yawn. Their heads were nearly touching, Bonnie's against the back of the couch while Damon's was propped alongside a pillow. He struggled to open his drowsy eyelids, this vision of Bonnie's hair blurring the images playing across the television. Damon had to admit the day had been rather taxing- his limbs were sore to the bone and his mind had turned to a pool of mush. He ran his tongue over his dry lips.

"Bonnie," he uttered, barely above a whisper. "Are you awake?"

There was a long pause before she stirred, faintly tilting her head towards his voice.

"Mhm," she breathed. Damon wasn't really certain if he imagined her reply or not, but nonetheless, he continued.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Okay." Her voice was no more than a murmur.

"When the Other Side was collapsing, and we were just _standing_ there waiting for the end to come, what made you hold my hand?"

The silence that followed seemed to last forever, reassuring Damon that he was positive he had imagined the whole conversation. He _must_ have been dreaming. Unexpectedly, he sensed movement in front of him as pillows began to flop out of place, the couch slightly rocking. From what he could tell through heavy eyelids, Bonnie was nestling the blanket underneath her chin while pulling pillows beneath her head and stuffing some behind her back. When she was contented, he heard her let out a sigh.

"I was scared," she mumbled. "Weren't you?"

Damon was speechless for a moment. He couldn't tell if she was _actually_ awake or just talking in her sleep. Either way, he wasn't prepared for an answer.

"Yeah," he softly replied. "I guess I was afraid."

A smile ghosted across Bonnie's lips before quickly disappearing.

"It's okay to feel afraid sometimes, Damon. That means you'll do anything to fight to stay alive."

 **Post A/N:**

 **So a LOT of stuff happened between Bamon in this chapter which is definitely setting some stuff up working towards the end of this series, and I'm excited for you guys to see! Will Damon truly have patience while Bonnie works out her magic or will everything blow up in his face? You will just have to wait and see… a lot can happen in a week.**

 **(I hope you appreciated Damon's song choice "Hotel California" by The Eagles :) I feel like that song perfectly describes the situation they're in- if you're not familiar you should take a listen. Some of the lyrics include "we're all just prisoners here…", "last thing I remember I was running for the door, had to find a passage back to the place I was before", "you can check out any time you like but you can never leave.")**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	4. Day 4 and 5

**A/N: Hi everyone! It's been awhile, I know. I've had the most difficult writers block ever but I'm not going to stop trying until I get this full series posted! Not abandoning the story I promise ;) 1994 Bamon is worth it. Once again, I'm planning on Bamon being a non-romantic pairing in this story just to stay true to the 1994 storyline (but angsty stuff is definitely full force). I'm also doing this chapter in Damon's POV so I hope you enjoy that too! Talk to you guys in last couple chapters- day 6 and 7 are the only ones left! I would like to thank my friends online for being so supportive of me. Especially Lana Archer. It means a lot- and thank** _ **you**_ **for reading! Please review.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or any movie or book that's mentioned. Only the writing.**

…

 _ **Day Four**_

Damon's eyelids began to flutter, his pupils bathed in a steady stream of light. He winced as a sharp pain shot through his skull.

"Elena, will you close the blinds?" he sleepily grumbled, rubbing his aching head with his palms. When the intense light continued to stab into his brain Damon snatched up a pillow and covered his face.

" _Please,_ Elena.I'm dying here!"

When he received no response, Damon forced himself to drop the pillow and pry open his heavy eyelids. In a rush of realization his heart sank as the low static hum of the TV reverberated throughout the living room, and the feel of the couch beneath him was far less comfortable than he remembered. He sighed, his head flopping forward in defeat.

"Oh, 1994 how I've missed you," he remarked with a dry laugh. It took Damon a minute or two to recall the events of the previous day. _Let's see. There was breakfast, scheduling, alone time, the high school, the Grill- oh God, the effing Grill. Then…_

"Bonnie," he voiced, his icy blue eyes widening. _Where was the Little Witch?_

Struggling, he began to boost himself into a sitting position. Once successfully vertical he felt a strange heaviness in his legs. He couldn't lift them.

"Jesus, how hung-over amI? I can't even feel my legs!" Damon began pushing pillows out of the way to assess the damage. He paused. "Wait a minute. Didn't we sort of, I don't know, _fall asleep together?_ She must have already woke up…"

He resumed his search, and when his fingers drifted across a smooth head of hair he froze. Unblinking, he opened his mouth to speak, but the words lay useless on his tongue. There, somehow perfectly askew on top of his legs, was _Bonnie freaking Bennett_. She was lying face down, her left arm tucked underneath him while her right draped loosely off the side of the couch. Her soft, brown cheek was pressed firmly into his right thigh and her hair was sleepily mussed. In his shock, Damon was faintly aware of the rise and fall of her chest.

"Oh. There you are." Damon tentatively removed his hand that still rested upon her chocolate locks.

"Uh- just for the record, you would _really_ be kicking yourself right now if you saw this," he whispered to her slumbering body with a smirk. "Too bad I can't reach my video camera for evidence."

His mischievous smile quickly faded as he recognized the sticky situation he was in. How in the hell was he supposed to get up without waking her? If he failed he just knew Bonnie would blame him for the whole incident even though _she_ was the one latched onto him like a monkey. Damon decided to take the initiative to get up by flexing his toes while gently wiggling his legs. Pausing, he tensed, waiting for her to spring off the couch and nail him in the face with the nearest object she could grasp. When nothing happened, he sighed with relief. Gripping the couch cushions, he raised his hips and moved his left leg onto the floor. Bonnie didn't move. He wiggled his right leg until it was _nearly_ out from under her until her arms suddenly extended forward and clutched his leg, pulling it back below her head. Damon sucked in his breath. She then made a soft moaning sound, her nails digging into his jeans.

"Stop moving," she muttered.

Damon could swear his dead heart almost popped out of his chest as he cautiously leant forward to examine her face. Her eyes were closed but her brows appeared to be knitted in frustration. She licked her lips, now wrapping _both_ of her arms around his leg as if she were being swept away at sea. After a beat her expression softened. Damon could sense her heart falling back into its sleepy rhythm. _She's probably just dreaming,_ he thought. _But what's with that look? Was it- contentment?_ Damon let out a long exhale and ran his hands up and down his face as he decided to take one last precaution before removing himself completely. He returned his attention to his snoozing housemate.

"Bonnie," he encouraged, his voice rising a few notches. "Are. You. Awake?"

No answer.

"Okay then, I'm gonna get up now," Damon warned her unresponsive body. In a last ditch effort, he somehow wrenched her death grip away from his leg and lifted her by the shoulders. He slipped out from under her in vampire speed, his feet _finally_ touching the ground. Luckily, in the now abandoned spot, lay several pillows to help cushion the sleeping witch. While still holding her up by the shoulders, Damon carefully laid her back down and stepped away from the couch. He thought for a moment that the loss of his presence awoke her when he saw her stretch and yawn a little, but in the next second she was curled up in a ball facing away from him. A few seconds ticked by until Damon found it safe enough to gather his discarded belongings and make his way to a shower. As he was about to exit the room, his eyes cast a backwards glance over his shoulder at the peaceful girl curled up on his couch. He felt a smile cross his pale lips, his headache nearly forgotten.

…

Damon used his foot to close the front door behind him, tossing an apple back and forth between his hands. He hummed a pleasant tune as he raised the fruit to his mouth.

"Only feeding yourself this morning I see."

Damon's head jerked in the direction of the voice, its owner still nestled contentedly on the couch. Bonnie had a blanket draped over her bare legs while she was leaned against the arm rest filling in something on a newspaper. Damon took a bite out of the apple and threw it over to her. She caught it, nose wrinkled in distaste.

"Good morning to you too. You're just in luck, I'm not opposed to sharing, Sleeping Beauty," he smirked. She unceremoniously dropped the apple on the ground and resumed her work, a sly smile on her lips.

"If you think calling me beautiful is going to get you out of chores today, then you got another thing comin' pal." Damon scoffed, plopping himself down in a chair.

"Oh, I'm not calling you 'beautiful' Witchy, I'm simply commenting on the fact that you've been sleeping all morning and you're _still_ on the couch now." He crossed his arms behind his head. "'Lazy' is more accurate."

His housemate rolled her eyes, continuing to jot things down on the paper. He lay a questionable eye on her as she intently bit her lip.

"What exactly are you working on there, Bon?"

"I'm trying to figure out 5-Across right now, actually," she mumbled, tapping the pen on her cheek.

"You're doing a crossword puzzle. Of course that's your idea of fun."

Damon sighed, pushing himself upward and out of the chair. He stuck a hand in his pocket as he traipsed over to the couch, sidling up behind her to peek at the paper. He heard her make an almost inaudible sound of annoyance as she shook the newspaper and turned it out of his line of view.

"So, are you going to help me with breakfast or just sit there for the rest of eternity?"

She paused. "Listen, Damon. I really do want to help, even though I _shouldn't_ care because you've been slacking off on chores…"

"-But?" he interrupted.

" _But,"_ she rumbled, "I'm not feeling well."

It was Damon's turn to roll his eyes skyward. He agitatedly ran his hands through his raven hair as he swung around the couch to face her.

"I'm sorry, can you possibly _repeat that?"_

She innocently blinked. "I said, _I'm not feeling well?_ "

"We're kinda- dead, Bonnie! We're like actual ghosts wandering around in 1994 and you somehow come down with a cold?"

"I know that! Don't you think I know that?" she gave an exasperated expression, throwing her hands in the air. Damon put his hands on his hips.

"I don't know how, or _why,_ but I honestly feel awful. I figured you wouldn't believe me but it is what it is," she concluded.

Damon could swear his brain-wracking headache was trying to make a comeback. He attempted to calm his nerves by making a trip to his trusty bar, snatching the bourbon off the counter. He tilted the bottle to his lips, consuming an ounce or two while he engaged in a staring contest with the witch. He wiped his mouth, placing the bottle back in its resting place.

"Are you sure this isn't just an excuse to put off practicing your magic?" his intense blue gaze was still in combat with her electric brown.

She shook her head. "No, _Damon._ It's not. I promise."

He observed her for another minute before giving her a reluctant nod.

"Jesus, I can't believe you're actually _sick_ , you were all over me…" he grumbled, his face flushing of color. "I wonder if germs can spread here or not. Gross…"

Bonnie's mouth dropped open. "Excuse me?"

Damon's look of queasiness quickly began to subside as amusement spread across his features.

"You honestly have no clue?"

She sent her forgotten newspaper and pen to the other side of the couch as she sat straight as a board, eyes bulging.

"No clue about _what?_ What happened? I wasn't the one practically soaked in alcohol!"

Damon grinned, resuming his seat in the chair. "We fell asleep on the couch last night, remember?"

She nodded after a moment. "Yes. We were watching The Bodyguard. You smelled horrible."

"Mhm, yep, of _course_ you would recall anything that degrades me…"

"Skip to the 'all over you' part!" she exclaimed, eyes glossed over.

"Well, when I woke up this morning, you were hooked around my legs like some koala."

Bonnie furrowed her brows, crossing her arms in suspicion.

"Are you kidding? That's insane! I don't believe you."

Damon pointed a finger. "See! Look at you being a Witchy little hypocrite. You ask me to believe you're sick but you can't _possibly_ believe me when I tell you we had a cuddle fest. Well, you did, at least."

Bonnie fell backwards into the pillows. "A _cuddle fest?_ " she groaned. "Oh, my God."

Damon shrugged, boosting himself off the chair and giving a long stretch as he headed in the direction of the kitchen.

"You sure you didn't take any drugs when you were gone?"

"Oh please, I thought about getting it on video for proof but it took me _forever_ to get your hands off me," he called, popping the refrigerator open. He heard her continue to groan. Damon smirked, grabbing the milk and a carton of eggs. _She believes me._

…

 _ **Day Five**_

Damon was tired. One may even go far as to say- exhausted. Taking care of Bonnie while doing the list of chores he had stacking against him was beginning to drive him crazy. Not to mention, he had to take up all the work Bonnie couldn't do herself. That meant _extra_ chores, which meant _no_ sleep. He was beyond done with this.

"Every hour that passes by I'm turning more and more into a housewife!" Damon bellowed over the roar of the vacuum. He was just finishing up the living room while the sickly, blanket swaddled witch lay on the couch. Bonnie had spent most of yesterday held up in her room, _Stefan's room,_ while he broke his back cleaning the entire house and preparing special meals for her desired tastes. Chicken noodle soup, rice casserole, jello, bread…Damon had never cooked more in his entire existence. Not even for Elena. What the hell was he doing?

Damon shut off the vacuum and shoved it away. He captured his glorious bottle of bourbon before collapsing on the floor. He took a swig, glaring at the girl causing him so much frustration.

"Okay, that's it. I'm done. I'm not doing this anymore."

Bonnie flipped another page of her book, he imagined her eyes rolling as she did so.

"Why don't you take a nap? You look horrible," she suggested monotonously.

"Look who's talking! It's safe to say we _both_ fit the part of looking deathly now." Bonnie raised her chocolate eyes from the page and sighed.

"You're a vampire, Damon. Buck up and stop being such a drama queen. I've told you a million times how grateful I am to you for everything. Besides, you're not even the sick one!"

"I'm _not_ the sick one! You're right. I've been doing double the chores because of you," he growled. "Not to leave out all the damn _cooking_. I mean, seriously, what's next? Crème Brulee?!"

"First of all, it's not my fault you went on some drunken escapade and forgot a days' worth of work. Secondly, who the hell asks for Crème Brulee when they're sick?!" she shouted. "What's the matter with you?"

"Shit, I don't know! I'm just tired, Bonnie. I want to go _home._ " Damon could feel his mind spiraling out of control with his foot nowhere near the brake pedal.

Somehow, the glow that had left her delicate face a day prior had gotten even worse in the past second, her appearance darkening. She unwound herself from the blanket and shakily stood to face him. Damon felt a trickle of anxiety run through his veins. She wrapped her arms around her fragile body and her lip began to tremble. Damon instantly regretted starting this altercation.

"You- you don't think Iwant to go home?"

He paused, nervously running his hands over his face. _Oh God, what have I done?_

" _Damon,"_ she fumed, her voice rising. "You don't think I want to go home?"

"I don't know if you do, honestly," he stumbled. "You spend every day avoiding your magic like a _disease,_ and then you tell me you're sick and I _believe you._ But you're not really are you, Bon? You're just _scared_ or something, worrying yourself sick." Damon began to rub deep circles into his neck, eyes closed. "I think you want to go home, but not as much as me. You don't understand what's at stake."

There was a deafening silence in the room. Damon dared not open his eyes. Then he heard her scoff, and opened an eye to see her digging her nails into her arms. Her mouth hung open in disbelief.

"Not as much as _you?_ _I_ don't understand what's at stake? What exactly makes _your_ wants infinitely more important than mine?"

Damon knew by now that he had opened a can of worms due to the fact that he couldn't control his temper. Now he was going to suffer the consequences. He quickly thought about running away, then decided against it. Whenever he came back, which he knew he would, Bonnie would be waiting to tear him a new one. He couldn't find words.

"Do you remember how we even happened to end up here, Damon?" her voice was cold as she stepped towards him, eyes wide with intent.

"We're here because I refused to leave you behind. I brought every single one of our friends through, practically _ripping_ myself apart as I did so, one by one. Then I looked at Elena's face when she saw that you weren't with them. That you were lost. And it broke my heart for her," she continued, tears streaming down her face. "I searched everywhere for you, and when I found you, _it was too late_." Bonnie walked gently towards him and reached out, hands grasping his shoulders as they did not so long ago. "I held like you this, thinking that we would both be back with our friends and everything would be fine. But I was wrong, wasn't I?"

Damon's mouth went dry as he looked into her hurt filled eyes. His insides began to twist.

"I'm sorry I was too late, I'm sorry things didn't work out like we planned them to. I just can't believe you're standing here basically telling me I don't _care_ when I'm always the one making sacrifices for us all. Somehow that's not enough for you?"

"I never said you don't care…"

"-you didn't have to!" she interjected, releasing her grip to punch him in the arm.

"You're in this house day in and day out moping around like a sad puppy crying about how much you're in love with Elena, and how much you miss Elena, and want to talk with Elena, and _never_ think about how I feel!"

"It's not the same."

She punched him in the arm again. "You're so _right!_ It's _different_ isn't it, Damon? You miss Elena in one way and I miss her in another. You miss home in way that I miss in another. You're just so caught up in your 'typical Damon behavior' that you can't see past your own heartache, can you?" She paused for a moment, boring holes into his eyes. Then, she lay a fluttering hand over her mouth as she attempted hold back further tears. Damon could do nothing but stare.

"You're not the one who has to live with the fact that if your magic doesn't work, going home isn't even a possibility," she yelled. "You're not the one feeling powerless and weak here. That's me."

Damon had no idea why such a small girl could intimidate him so much and that, in itself, was frightening. He clenched his fists at his sides.

"That's not true. I feel that way too. About a lot of things."

"Like the secret you're keeping from me?" Bonnie stomped over to the couch and swiped the newspaper, holding it up to his face. "Do you wanna tell me what May 10th 1994 means to you, Damon? Or are we going to just pretend like that's not a problem either?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, nostrils flaring. "No, I- I can't."

Bonnie groaned, smacking her palm into her forehead. "This is never going to work if we can't be honest with each other and communicate. I think you know that," she whispered resignedly. He nodded, lips pressed into a thin line.

"I guess we're just not there yet. I know I haven't done my best. But if we're ever going to have a _chance_ of getting out of this hell hole, you need to start thinking of other people besides you." Bonnie pressed the newspaper into his chest. Her cheeks were stained of tears.

"You're selfish, Damon. You're a selfish man-child with an ego twice your size. If there's ever going to be a time for you to grow up, it's now. Stop blaming everyone but yourself." Damon let the newspaper fall to the floor, and could only watch silently as she spun away and gathered her discarded blanket off the couch, tucking her book beneath her arm. Her brown eyes were weary.

"Maybe you're right," she shrugged, voice low. "Maybe I'm sick because I stressed myself out, or maybe it's because I can't _stand_ the fact that it's my fault we're not home. I don't know, Damon, but either way I'm sick. And now I'm officially sick of you."

Bonnie gave him a look somewhere between disappointment and disgust, and turned away from him, taking off towards her room without a backwards glance.

"Leave me alone," she whispered, shutting her bedroom door. "I'm done."

He knew Bonnie was talking to him, she did that sometimes, talking softly to him from her room. It was sort of a game they invented to pass the time, testing how well Damon could hear from a distance. This time neither of them were playing.

"Go away, Damon. I'll take care of everything by myself. I always do," came her muffled voice, distorted through the fabric of the blanket she was covering herself with.

Damon stood, alone, in the living room as the clock ticked past eight-thirty. He slowly went to the bar and grasped the bottle of bourbon, turning it around in his hands. He poured a glass and left it there, pushed to the center of the counter. He capped the bottle as he retrieved his leather jacket from the coat closet, and went out into the night.


End file.
